In My Time of Dying
by Downside-Left
Summary: Post season5-finale, something goes horribly wrong in the Loony Bin. Ensemble fic, mystery/angst/romance/etc. Zach-centric. Chapter-fic.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Title: In My Time of Dying

Summary: Post season5-finale, something goes horribly wrong in the Loony Bin. Ensemble fic, mystery/angst/romance/etc. Zach-centric.

A/N: OHMYGOD! It's a CHAPTER-FIC-ZANGSTY-THING! This is a very big step for me, but HAVE NO FEAR! UNDERDOG IS – sorry for that; we will now return you to your regularly scheduled author's note. ANYWAY, I'm writing this WHOLE THING before I post ANY OF IT, so don't worry, if this chapter gets posted, updates will probably happen every other day or so! Which makes me very happy. So happy that I'm babbling like a crazy-person in the author's note. YAY!

A/N2: Just a note, I do not warn for character death, since I feel like it gives everything away. This note being here does not necessarily mean that there is character death, although there might be. It's now a standard author's note for all my stories, particularly the ZANGST ones. They're the ones that are most likely to involve character death (I think at least one actually had it, or at least hinted at it).

…

_Prologue_

In retrospect, jumping between a terror-stricken-teenaged-girl and the literal-psycho who was wielding an improvised butcher's knife wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. Of course, hindsight is always perfect.

But what else was he supposed to do? Sit there and watch, like everyone on the staff, paralyzed by disbelief and fear? Do nothing while some poor girl was mutilated?

No. Nobody in their right mind would have just sat there, doing nothing.

Ironically, only one other person in the entire world believes that Zach Addy _is_ in his right mind. Or, at least, knows that Zach isn't crazy the way he said he was. Knows that he is innocent of murder, anyway.

Either way, Zach hadn't had much choice, now had he?

At least, that's what he tells himself as he sits in the hospital, staring incredulously at the body in the hospital bed. The body looks terrible.

Stab wounds, head trauma, the works. Tubes poking out of the mouth and nose; other, thinner ones coming out of the arms.

The especially weird thing is, the body is Zach's.

Ever heard of an out-of-body experience?

Zach's heard of them before today, but he always discounted them as ridiculous fallacies. It's insane. Completely, totally ludicrous.

Maybe he's finally snapped, for real. Maybe Zach _is_ crazy.

But he doesn't feel insane. He feels normal, the way he's always felt. He understands right and wrong, he understands that he shouldn't have listened to the Master.

So, if he's not insane, that means that this is real.

He's having an out-of-body experience, because he's in a coma, and he's probably going to die.

This is not good.

…

A/N: YAY! Erm, well, not YAY, really, because he might DIE, but… um…. Yay I'm writing something with an actual plot? Please review!


	2. Real Life Sucks, Stick With Chess

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Normally I'm not this obnoxious, I swear, (in fact, I'm actually irritating myself) but can you guys _pleeease_ review? This is my very-first chapter-fic-with-plot, and I'm _very_ nervous about it. I love love _love_ if you alerted the fic, but a review is like Christmas/birthday/vacation/chocolate all in one. Which, since most of the readers on this website are also writers, you peoples should know. I promise I won't be this irritating after this author's note. But I'm a review-whore, so I gotta beg at least once.

Chapter 1: Real Life Sucks, Stick With Chess

…

_Five hours ago, Mental Institution (Friday morning)_

Zach stares contemplatively at the chessboard in front of him.

'_Move the rook to B7, black knight takes it, sacrifice a bishop to take out the Queen.'_

Chess is simple, compared to real life. In chess, you know what every piece does, where it can move, what it can do. You know the rules and the objective.

Nobody knows any of that in real life.

The old man across the board furrows his brow in consternation as Zach moves the rook, and then glares at the young man.

"Well, sonuvabitch. Looks like you're gonna nab my Queen, eh Mike?"

Zach bites back the standard 'my name isn't Mike' in favor of merely cocking his head to one side, saying, "What do you mean?"

The old man hacks a laugh, and says, "You know damn well what I mean. You know, my girl Mary used to play chess with me. She doesn't visit no more."

He looks sad for a moment, and then shoots Zach a gaze so shrewd that he momentarily doubts the old man's insanity. "Nobody visits you either, eh Mike?"

Zach glances down at his bandaged hands for a moment, and says quietly, "My family doesn't want to see me, and my friends all moved on."

"Hmm. That usually don't happen 'til you're so old that you're just a burden," the old man comments, and then takes out Zach's rook with the knight, just like they both knew he would.

"Or insane, George," Zach sighs heavily as he takes out the knight with his bishop, effectively threatening the King. "Check."

"You ain't crazy, boy," George grins. "Nobody plays chess like you c'n be crazy."

As George lifts his hand to take the bishop with his Queen, effectively handing the game to Zach, someone screams nearby.

Now, as they're in a mental institution, screams are relatively common. This scream, however, causes every head in the room to snap around.

By the usually-locked door to the 'Dangerous Ward', a man is standing, glaring at them all, holding what looks like a butcher's knife.

Everyone, residents and staff alike, freezes.

The madman's eyes focus on the nearest person, a young redheaded girl named Joanna, who'd been brought in for hearing voices three years ago. She's staring at him in terror, and his eyes light up.

She screams again, but doesn't seem able to get out of her chair. Everyone around her is paralyzed in shock.

Everyone except Zach.

Zach leaps to his feet and charges across the room, hurtling headfirst into the knife-wielding maniac.

Unfortunately, the psycho has pretty good reflexes, and he drives the knife into Zach's stomach before the younger man can do anything to stop him.

Zach staggers back, shocked. It doesn't really hurt. It just feels sort of… numb. And cold.

The other man (Don, the small corner of Zach's mind that's always paying attention to tiny details whispers) backhands Zach into the wall.

_That_ hurts.

His head collides with the concrete wall, and again, and suddenly there are footsteps, and people screaming, and movement nearby, and he can almost see faces, but everything's spinning, spinning, spinning, and fading to black in a swirl of color, however that works.

…

_The Jeffersonian Institute (current time)_

Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Jeffersonian Institute, is sitting at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen.

'_Ten days down, only three hundred and fifty-five to go'_, she thinks wryly to herself. _'Oh, don't kid yourself, Cam, they're not coming back.'_

Ten days since every single one of her friends left (Sweets, although he's a nice guy, doesn't really count. Shrinks are dangerous to have as friends), ten days since she realized that she had no place here, at the Jeffersonian, without them. What's the point of being 'in charge of the world's foremost forensic anthropology team' if the anthropologist, entomologist/plant pathologist/whatever Hodgins was, world-renowned artist, and FBI-liaison/decorated-veteran weren't on the team anymore? Then you're just in charge of… an autopsy table! And some interns.

'_That thought got away from me,'_ she half-grins as she runs a hand over her eyes. _'God I'm tired.'_

Cam continues to stare into space, eyes sliding out of focus, until her desk phone rings shrilly.

"Dr. Saroyan," she says into the phone, picking up immediately on the off-chance it's one of her friends, calling to say they were coming back. _'Not gonna happen, idiot.'_

"_Cam? It's Sweets,"_ the young psychologist's voice crackles over the phone, sounding tense and on the verge of panic.

"Sweets? What's wrong?" Cam asks, sitting bolt upright, visions of murder and mayhem dancing through her mind.

"_Something happened, I don't know, they won't tell me anything–"_ Sweets babbles incoherently.

"Who won't tell you anything? Sweets, you need to calm down and use actual words," Cam says anxiously.

"_Zach, he's in the hospital. Not the mental hospital, the real hospital. They won't tell me anything because I'm not family, and I can't get any of his family on the phone, but that wouldn't matter because they don't want anything to do with him–"_

"Why is he in the hospital?" Cam asks, gut twisting in dread.

"_They won't __tell me anything__,"_ Sweets practically wails. "_I keep telling them I'm his psychiatrist, but they won't __listen__, and he's in the ICU, and you __know__ when they won't tell you anything that there's something __really really__ wrong–_"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Cam says, hanging up and bolting for the door, digging frantically in her purse for her cell phone.

'_Call Hodgins, let him know. Screw the honeymoon, he's Zach's best friend, he might know who I should call next….'_

…

A/N: And we're off! Note about pairings: B/B is king, H/A is fun, and I am a closet Z/C fan. So… that may or may not be reflected in my writing. Depends on how I feel. I'll let ya know.


	3. I Am The Invisible Man

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Warning: here there be swears, and lots of 'em. So… if that bugs you, beware. I don't know why it would, but I felt I should say so. Also, many thanks to everybody for reviewing!

Chapter 2: I Am The Invisible Man

…

_Paris, France_

"This is, quite honestly, completely freakin' awesome," Hodgins says, grinning at Angela over a candlelit dinner on the balcony of their hotel room overlooking Paris.

"Definitely," Angela agrees, returning the grin with interest.

Perfect romantic moment; beautiful sunset, Paris, candles, intimate dinner for two, wine….

And a ringing cell phone.

"I thought we agreed no phones?" Angela says in mock annoyance as Hodgins pulls the phone out of his pocket.

"Hey Cam, what's up?" Hodgins asks, rolling his eyes at Angela. "What? No, I don't… why? What happened?" he sits up, frowning.

"What's going on?" Angela asks, putting her wineglass down and reaching for Hodgins' hand.

Hodgins' eyes go wide, and he lurches to his feet. "_What?_"

"Hodgins?"

Hodgins stands perfectly still for a few moments, listening to whatever Cam's saying on the phone, and then says brusquely, "We'll be there by tomorrow," and hangs up.

"Sweetie, what's wrong? What happened?" Angela asks, on the verge of panic.

"Zach's in the hospital," Hodgins says in a dead voice. "He's in a coma. Cam says he might not wake up."

…

_Hospital, Washington D.C._

"This isn't happening," Zach says firmly, staring wide-eyed at his body, lying on the bed in front of him. "This. Is. Not. Happening."

But it is.

He stares blankly into space for another few moments, but his numb state is interrupted by raised voices down the hall. Normally, he wouldn't care, but he recognizes one of the voices.

"…don't give a _shit_ what your goddamn policy says, _where the hell is he?_"

Zach bolts for the door, and stares down the hallway in confusion.

Dr. Saroyan is there, red-faced, messy-haired, screaming at one of the nurses. Dr. Sweets is standing behind her, moving his hands in what Zach can only assume is meant to be a placating manner. The nurse has _her_ hands propped on her hips, and is trying to remain calm, but even Zach can see that she's losing the fight.

"Are you family?" the nurse says ever-so-patiently.

"No. He doesn't have family in the area. They're in Michigan, and they can't get here. We're the only people he has nearby," Dr. Saroyan grinds out, looking like she'd like to hit someone, preferably the nurse. "So, tell me, where is Zach Addy?"

"Dr. Saroyan? I'm here," Zach says loudly, waving his arms in the air.

Clearly, she can't see or hear him. Nobody can. No one reacts to his presence.

"I can't tell you," the nurse says, and Zach can almost see a nerve twitch near her eye. "It's against–"

"If you tell me it's against hospital policy one more time, so help me God, I will beat the ever-living shit out of you," Dr. Saroyan says, very calmly, staring intently at the nurse.

Sweets gulps audibly, the nurse pales, and Zach suddenly gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Or, where his stomach would be, if he were in his body.

If she is _this_ upset, it can't be good. It wasn't good in the first place, what with the coma and the out-of-body experience thing, but it might be worse than he expected.

"Look, I'll talk to one of my supervisors. In the meantime, I suggest you go that way," the nurse points towards Zach, although she can't see him, "and calm down _over there_."

Dr. Saroyan eyes the nurse for a moment, and then nods briskly. "Thank you for all your help," she says with forced civility, and then stalks down the hallway, walking _through_ Zach.

She stops outside his room, almost getting run over by Sweets, and whispers, "Oh, God."

Zach looks over her shoulder at his body, and can't really blame her for her reaction. He's a complete mess. A stab wound in the stomach, combined with a vicious blow (blows, really) to the head, does not add up to a pretty picture.

Sweets blanches, and leans against a nearby wall. Dr. Saroyan closes her eyes for a moment, and then walks forward slowly, sitting carefully in the chair next to Zach's bed, and, just as slowly and carefully, takes his right hand in hers.

"Zach?" she says quietly. "Zach, if you can hear me, we're here. Me and Sweets. Hodgins and Angela are on their way, and we're trying to get in touch with Dr. Brennan, but…."

She stops, and stares at his hand in hers. Zach, standing off to the side, bites his lip, and wishes that he was in his body. Wishes that none of this had happened.

"Uh, don't worry, we'll get her," Dr. Saroyan says, and Zach can tell that she's fighting back tears. "And, then, you know, you'll be OK. We'll all be here. And… you'll be fine."

Somehow, Zach doubts that. And he can tell from their expressions that Sweets and Dr. Saroyan are plagued by doubts as well.

…

A/N: Alrighty! Next time (probably tomorrow night): a problem with a plane, a phonecall with Bones, and an unexplainable _something_ in the hospital.


	4. Static On The Phone

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Oh my God, you guys are all AWESOME! I love you! I _love_ opening my email inbox and seeing like EIGHTEEN notification-thingeys from fanfic! Seriously, I dance around like an idiot for a good half-hour later. And though I love ALL of you, I probably won't respond to a review unless it brings up a particular point, or asks a question. Also, I'm sorry if Zach is a little out-of-character in future chapters, but he's also a little out-of-body, so that's my excuse. And, without further random babblings, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

Chapter 3: Static On The Phone

…

_Paris, France_

"You are _kidding_ me," Hodgins snarls, staring at the flight boards. "You have got to be kidding me. Say this is just a joke."

"I don't think so, sweetie," Angela says, slipping her hand into his.

There are no flights leaving Paris today. Some crazy-man threatened to shoot someone, and, as per usual, people overreacted and shut down the entire airport.

"How the hell are we gonna get home?" Hodgins asks, running his free hand over his hair.

"I don't know. But we should call Cam and let her know what's going on," Angela says, clinging to calm, focus, and practicality with the tips of her fingernails.

"I should _be there_," Hodgins says, still staring blankly at the flight boards. "I'm his best friend. He's in a coma. He might…. His family doesn't want anything to do with him, you know."

"Why?" Angela asks as she pulls out her cell phone, intent on calling Cam. _'Focus on the next five minutes. Don't panic. Don't freak out. Stay calm.'_

"The whole Gormogon thing," Hodgins says bitterly. "They don't want anything to do with a murderer. Much less a crazy murderer."

"Well then it's a good thing he has us," Angela tries to be reassuring.

"He doesn't have us though," Hodgins sighs. "We're not there."

…

_Maluku Islands, half an hour later_

The dig is fascinating, no doubt about it. Discovering possible missing links in the chain of human evolution….

But Dr. Brennan is not happy.

Yes, she's assisting with one of the world's most important anthropological finds. Yes, she will likely gain incredible amounts of scientific acknowledgements.

Still, something is missing.

She keeps finding herself looking for Cause of Death (not cause of death; there's a distinct difference), trying to figure out who the murderer was.

She keeps wanting to turn to Booth for advice.

But she is in the Maluku Islands, and he's in Iraq. They'll meet in a year, by the Reflecting Pool.

'_Ten days down, three hundred and fifty-five to go.'_

She shouldn't be counting the days until she sees him again. She should be immersing herself in pure science once more. But she still wants to see him, talk to him….

So when the phone rings, she leaps on it eagerly, desperate for any form of distraction.

"Hello?"

Static greets her.

"Hello?"

"_Bren…?"_

"Angela? Is that you? The connection is terrible."

"_Brenna…o home, now….ach, he's bee…hospital…."_

"What? Angela, I can't understand you. Did you say hospital?" Brennan's stomach is churning. Someone's in the hospital. Oh no. No, no, no, Booth, please be OK, please be alright….

"_Zach….pital…coma…."_

"Zach? Zach's in the hospital?" For one moment her heart soars with relief that Booth is OK, and then the guilt hits her. She's happy that Zach is in the hospital? In a _coma_?

"_Can't hear…..Bre….?"_

"Angela?"

A shrill beep cuts her off. The call has been dropped.

But Dr. Brennan's peaceful, scientific retreat to the Maluku Islands is over, whether she wants it to be or not. Her apprentice, her _friend_, is in the hospital.

She's going home.

Right the hell now.

…

_Hospital, Washington D.C._

Zach is pacing. Well, his body is still comatose, but his out-of-body-ness, his _spirit_, if you must, is pacing.

"This doesn't make any sense," he says aloud. "I should be able to get back into my body. Or wake up from this insane nightmare."

Dr. Saroyan, the only person besides Zach in the room, does not answer. She still can't hear Zach. Nobody can.

Or so he thinks.

As he paces, a sound by the door makes him jerk to a stop. A little girl is in the doorway, staring straight at him. At the spirit-Zach, not his coma-body. She stares at him, and giggles again.

"Can you see me?" he asks nervously.

She nods, and grins.

The grin sends shivers down Zach's spirit-spine, shivers so severe that his actual, real-world body convulses ever so slightly, causing Dr. Saroyan to lean forward in momentary hope.

It's not a nice grin. In fact, Zach thinks that the grin would better fit a rabid bear than this little girl, who can't be more than seven years old.

"What are you?" he asks, backing up, away from the creepy little girl.

"_The one who can bring you home,"_ she says, in an eerie, echo-y voice.

"Uh," Zach says cleverly. "I don't know what that means…."

The little girl laughs, and then vanishes. No cheap swirls of smoke, no sudden flash of light. One moment she's there, the next she isn't.

And Zach is terrified.

…

A/N: BWAH! SUSPENSE! FILLER-CHAPTER-ISH! And I sort of took the little girl from the same episode of Supernatural, only there she wasn't a little girl, or quite so creepy. But I got the idea from the show. So that's not mine either. So that should've gone up in the disclaimer. ANYWAY, next time: more desperate phonecalls, a madcap scheme spanning a good chunk of Western Europe, and a creepy, otherworldly stalker.


	5. Gotta Get Home

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Yeah, I don't know ANYTHING about the military and how it works… all I know I got from M*A*S*H, which… wasn't all that _military_ anyway. It was pretty much _anti-military_. So if I screw up, I hereby throw myself on your collective mercies. Please don't hate me! And again, thanks for reading/reviewing!

Chapter 4: Gotta Get Home

…

_Iraq, five hours later_

Booth sighs, and stares at the pictures in his hand. One is of Parker, his son, who he misses more than he can say. The other picture is of a smiling woman, shoulder-length brown hair, bright eyes, and the love of his life. Although he won't say that out loud. Not after she shot him down.

'_Three hundred and fifty-five days left,'_ he thinks, and scowls. He shouldn't be moping after her. Not anymore. He should be focusing on his job, on what he has to do. He has to help these kids, train them in how to stay alive…. But it's just not the same without Bones and her Squint-Squad.

Just as he's about to slap himself in the face for getting maudlin, one of the interchangeable men from the Main Office is knocking on Booth's door, saying something about a phonecall from back home.

Booth is out the door in less than three seconds, booking it across the compound. The only reason anyone would call is if something happened, if someone was hurt, if there had been an earthquake or a tsunami in the Maluku Islands and she wasn't going to be there in three hundred and fifty-five days, and he'd never be able to make her understand….

"Hello?" Booth practically screams into the phone, fighting off panic.

"_Booth? It's me," _and he has to sit down, knees gone weak with relief. _'Bones is OK.'_

"God, Bones, you practically gave me heart failure!" he laughs into the phone. "I thought – well, I thought something was wrong."

"_Something _is_ wrong, Booth,"_ she says, and panic rises up again. She sounds… she sounds like she just saw a puppy get hit by a bus.

"What? Are you OK?"

"_I'm fine. I'm on my way home,"_ Booth can hear her fighting back sniffles.

"Why? I thought you were staying there for a year…. What happened?" If Booth had been a dog, his hackles would have been raised. _Something_ isn't right.

"_Zach's in the hospital. I just got off the phone with Cam, she says he's in a coma, there was something about an accident at the mental hospital, she wasn't sure. But, uh, I'm in Australia now, and I'll be back in D.C. by… I'm not sure, some time tomorrow,"_ she says, and even over the phone, Booth can tell she isn't holding together very well.

"Is he gonna be OK?" Booth asks, feeling vaguely guilty that he doesn't feel more worried about Zach. He'd never really liked the kid, though. Well, he was OK, for a crazy murderer, but he was never high on Booth's list of favorite people.

"_I don't know, nobody knows. Angela and Hodgins are trying to get home, but there aren't any planes flying out of Paris, and I don't know what to do, Booth."_

"It'll be OK, Bones," he says quietly, wishing he was there with her, wishing he'd never gone to this stupid place. Stupid war. Stupid army. Bones needs him, and he's not there!

"_What if it's not? Booth, what if he dies, and I'm not there?"_ he can tell she's crying now.

"He won't die, alright? Zach's tough, you know that. It's not logical for him to die, so he won't," Booth says, trying desperately to be reassuring, but really only sounding ridiculous.

"_That doesn't make any sense,"_ Bones says, but there's a hint of a laugh behind her voice now.

"Just trust me on this one, Bones, Zach won't die," Booth says, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels.

"_How are you so sure?"_

"Because… because I am."

She laughs, for real this time, and Booth gets butterflies in his stomach, like he's in third grade again.

'_I miss you'_, he thinks, but doesn't say. He won't say it, not until they're at the Reflecting Pool. Not until he can see her again.

…

_Paris, France_

"Alright, I've got train tickets to Spain," Angela says triumphantly, appearing beside Hodgins outside the still-busy airport.

"And we officially have seats on the 2 pm flight out of Madrid tomorrow," Hodgins says with a sigh of relief.

"So we'll be home tomorrow night. And then straight to the hospital," Angela says reassuringly, slipping her hand into Hodgins'. "He'll be fine, sweetie."

Hodgins nods, but she can tell he doesn't really believe her. He won't believe it until he sees Zach for himself.

"Hodgins, you need to stop blaming yourself," she says quietly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," Hodgins protests. "I'm his best friend, I should _be there_."

"There was no way you could know–" Angela starts, but Hodgins cuts her off, still staring into space, not really looking at her. Not really hearing her.

"I never even told him we were leaving, you know. I never told him we got married. God, I haven't even been to see him in… weeks. Months. I gave up on him."

"No, you didn't," Angela tries, but Hodgins is ignoring her.

"I shouldn't have left him in that mental hospital. I should've done something, gotten him out. Why the hell didn't I?"

Hodgins continues to rant, and Angela stops trying to comfort him. She just holds his hand as he vents, and listens as Hodgins berates himself.

There's really nothing she can say, anyway. Everything Hodgins is saying is true, although it doesn't just apply to him. They had _all_ forgotten Zach, they had _all_ left him in the mental institution. They had all abandoned him.

And now, they're all drowning in guilt.

'_As we should be'_, Angela thinks to herself.

…

_Hospital, Washington D.C._

Zach is still freaking out. It's not every day weird little girls with rabid-bear grins can see him in his out-of-body state and then vanish into thin air.

Besides, she was a creep.

Dr. Saroyan's cell phone rings, and she snatches it up immediately.

"Angela? What…. Mm-hmm…. OK…. Oh thank God…. Tomorrow? Alright, good."

Zach's heart skips a beat (metaphorically speaking). Hodgins and Angela will be here tomorrow! Maybe they will be able to hear him….

"No, no change yet. I'll let you know the minute something happens, though," Dr. Saroyan says quietly. "Alright. Bye."

She hangs up, and turns to the empty-Zach-body. "Hodgins and Angela found a way to get home. They'll be here tomorrow night."

She pauses, almost expectantly, as if waiting for a reply. Naturally, there is none that she can hear.

"Good," Zach says softly, answering reflexively. He knows she can't hear him, but he still tries.

He freezes as the creepy giggle from before sounds again. The little girl is back, staring at him from the doorway again.

"What do you want?" he says, trying desperately to sound intimidating.

"_Your time is running out,"_ she says in an eerie singsong voice. _"When it's out, so are you. I'll bring you home, where people like you belong."_

"People like me?" Zach asks, swallowing convulsively.

"_Dead people,"_ the little girl grins her rabid-bear smirk again. _"When you die, which will be soon, I'll bring you home."_

And, just as before, she vanishes.

"Oh, shit," Zach says faintly.

…

A/N: Don't worry, I probably won't kill him. Although I make no promises. But I love him to bits, so he probably won't die unless I decide that I want to be miserable and angsty, which really only happens when I'm at school, and I'm not, so he'll probably live. Next time: multiple arrivals at the airport, the little creeper reveals more of what she is, and hints of a future revelation that may or may not surprise you, depending on whether or not you've been paying attention.


	6. Foreshadowing The Truth of The Beyond

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: JEESH, this chapter was a bitch and a half to write. The original version had an OC (Zach's sister), but I just didn't like her very much and I couldn't get her to do what I wanted. So I scrapped her, but that meant I basically had to rewrite the ENTIRE second half of the chapter. But I like it better this way, so it all works out dandy.

Chapter 5: Foreshadowing The Truth Of The Beyond

…

_National Airport, Washington D.C. (Saturday evening)_

Dozens and dozens of planes land and take off within the span of one hour at this airport. One comes from Australia via San Francisco. Another from Spain.

On the plane from Australia, there are tourists, a few businessmen, and one anxious forensic anthropologist. The plane from Spain is full of students coming back from spring break, _three_ squalling babies (which is just three too many), and one couple (an entomologist and an artist), who are on the verge of panic.

The anthropologist, entomologist and artist are all heading to the same place. Room 382 at the hospital in Washington D.C.

The planes land around the same time. The one from Spain touches down at 10:46 pm, and the Australian one at 11:27.

Angela calls Cam while Hodgins hunts for their bags. When Cam answers her phone, Angela immediately asks when Brennan will be getting back. Anything to avoid asking the question that she already knows the answer to.

…

_Room 382, Hospital, Washington D.C._

"You should probably just wait there another half hour for Dr. Brennan," Cam sighs into the phone, staring blankly at the still-comatose Zach. "Just get a taxi together."

"_Alright,"_ Angela says, sounding exhausted. She pauses for a moment, and then asks, almost reluctantly _"Any change?"_

"No," Cam responds softly, biting her lip. "Nothing."

Silence reigns for a moment, and then Angela says, with forced brightness, _"We'll be there soon. And then he'll wake up. So… see you soon."_

"OK," Cam says, trying to make her voice sound confident. "See you soon."

She hangs up, and runs a hand over her face.

She's been in the hospital for almost two days now. Sweets was here for a while, but he left yesterday to try to find out what the hell happened to Zach, and hasn't got back yet.

Zach is still in his coma. Once, yesterday, he twitched, and she'd thought, for one moment, that he was waking up. But nothing had happened.

That twitch had given her hope, but the hope is quickly fading. She won't let go of his hand, though. She won't let go until he wakes up, or….

Until he wakes up. Because he _will_ wake up, and soon. He has to. There are no other options. Just waking up.

And then she'll say what she was too stupid, or cowardly, or stubborn, to say more than two years ago. She'll say that –

Her thoughts are rudely cut off by footsteps in the hallway. Sweets is back.

"Anything?" he asks as he enters the room.

"No, nothing."

He sighs, and sits despondently on the other chair, and says dully, "Found out what happened."

"What?" Cam asks, mostly because she's expected to. She doesn't really care that much right now.

"One of the more dangerous patients at the asylum slipped loose, and attacked a seventeen-year-old girl. Zach tried to stop him. He got knifed in the stomach and then had his head beaten against the wall," Sweets says in a monotone, as if he was reciting ingredients in chicken soup. "When Don, the violent one, was beating on Zach, it gave the girl, Joanna, a chance to get away, and it got the staff time to stop Don."

Cam is silent a moment, and then says, "So, he was trying to help."

"Yes."

Silence falls again.

…

_Room 382, Hospital, Washington D.C._

"Of course I was trying to help," Zach sighs. "I'm not _that_ much of a monster."

As usual, neither Dr. Saroyan nor Dr. Sweets respond. They still can't hear him.

"_Tick, tock, tick, tock,"_ a voice whispers from behind him. The creepy girl is back.

"Look, either kill me or leave me alone, alright?" Zach says, highly annoyed. The girl had been frightening at first, but now she was only irritating.

"_Not time yet, but it's growing closer,"_ the girl says, but does not smile her eerie rabid-bear grin, which is a good thing, since it still freaks Zach out.

"Go away," Zach groans, running a hand over his hair. In his spirit-state, his hands are unscarred, which is interesting, if confusing.

"_Can't,"_ the girl says quietly. _"Have to make you see the truth."_

Zach stares at her, unsure as to her meaning. "What? What truth?"

"_The truth of you. Of what you will be. Of what you are. And the way to go home, if I cannot take you there myself,"_ she says, seeming somewhat less crazy. But only somewhat.

"Uh," Zach says, once again being incredibly clever and verbose. "Uh, what?"

The girl sighs, sounding frustrated. _"You have a choice, soon. To stay, or to go on. To cling to what you had, or to release and be welcomed home. You must choose soon."_

"Choose? Choose between life and death?" Zach asks incredulously.

"_Between death, a sweet release, a carefree nonexistence of drifting, or life, a constant struggle, a never-ending war with yourself and those around you,"_ the girl murmurs. _"Your life is… not what you wished it to be? You made some unfortunate choices. Trapped yourself in your own living hell."_

"Thank you," Zach says after a moment. "But, uh, I don't really want to die."

"_What do you have here?"_ the girl asks. _"Your family does not care, your friends have fled to all the corners of the world. You are in prison. You do not have full use of your hands. You cannot _do_ things, be useful, be functional."_

Zach stares at her. "That's not true," he protests weakly.

"_It is,"_ the girl says implacably. _"You know that it is. And when the time comes, you must decide whether you wish to cling to this half-life, or to let go, and be warm and safe and loved."_

"I… I don't believe in God, or an afterlife," Zach says, hiding behind logic and reason, as ever.

"_Irrelevant,"_ she states. _"There is something waiting, and it is more than what you have now."_

Zach can't think of anything to say.

"_It is not time yet, though,"_ the girl whispers. _"Soon, you must choose. But not yet."_

And she vanishes.

…

_Main Lobby, Hospital, Washington D.C._

Hodgins, Angela and Brennan are standing at the main desk in the hospital, demanding to be allowed to see Zach.

"I'm sorry," the nurse (the same one as before) says brusquely. "He already has two non-family members sitting with him, and until we contact his family we can't allow anyone else to see him."

"That's bullshit!" Hodgins snarls.

"It's policy."

"I don't give a flying _fuck_ about your policies, I want to see my friend!"

"Sir, please don't swear at me. You need to remain calm."

"I'll calm down when you tell me where the hell Zach is," Hodgins snaps, and when the nurse merely stands there, unaffected, he throws his hands in the air in disbelief.

"Hodgins, let me talk to her, alright?" Angela asks, and then turns to the nurse.

"I can't let you see him," the nurse says preemptively.

"I know," Angela says, and smiles in a conspiratorial manner. "Look, I'm sorry about my husband. We just got here after a really long flight, and we're all exhausted. So, please, can you just tell us where he is? Hodgins is practically Zach's brother, and Dr. Brennan is like a mother-figure to him. So, we're kind of family, really, in all the ways that truly matter. I know, it's against policy, but we'd really appreciate it, and his legal family won't be showing up, so where's the harm?"

The nurse stares at her, eyes narrowed, and then breaks down into a rueful smile, which Angela returns.

"Only legal family members are allowed into the room. Policy. Sorry."

…

_Room 382, Hospital, Washington D.C._

Zach's head jerks upright as he hears furious yelling. He knows that voice.

"Angela?" he says, incredulous, and bolts for the door.

Sure enough, Angela is at the main desk, railing at the crotchety nurse from earlier.

"Where the hell is he?" Angela bellows.

"Angela?" Zach says again, completely unable to accept that his friend is there. And, behind her, Hodgins and Dr. Brennan are glaring daggers at the nurse.

"Angela!" Dr. Saroyan's voice comes from behind Zach, and she walks through Zach very quickly. "Angela, he's in here."

The artist glares viciously at the nurse, and then turns around and starts walking towards Dr. Saroyan, with Dr. Brennan and Hodgins close behind.

The nurse makes as if to stop them, and then seems to think better of it. She throws her hands up in the air, and turns back to her computer. It's probably the best decision.

"Cam, is there–" Dr. Brennan starts, but Dr. Saroyan cuts her off.

"No change yet," she says quietly.

They all file into Zach's hospital room, like they had two years ago, only this time he's comatose, and also invisibly standing by the door.

And, this time, a creepy little girl is standing beside him.

"My friends are here," Zach says quietly. "They came. See? They _do_ care."

She stares at him. _"Why do you delude yourself?"_ she asks in her strangely echo-y voice. _"They are here only out of a sense of duty."_

"What–"

"_If you had not been dying, they would not have come. They would have continued with their lives, in Paris, or the Maluku Islands, or here in Washington,"_ the girl says sadly. _"I don't _want_ to tell you this, Zach. But I will not lie to you. I never lie."_

"What are you?" Zach asks lamely.

"_A Reaper,"_ she answers quietly. _"I bring the dead and dying to their rest, if they wish it. If they do not, I will not take them. They remain, always, lingering near the lives they cannot have anymore. You cannot go back, Zach. You can only go on."_

"No," Zach protests weakly. "No, I don't want to. I want to stay here."

"_You have seen your friends. You know that, when you have desperate need of them, they will feel obligated to come. Is that not enough?"_

"No, no it's not."

She sighs, and says, _"In one hour, you must make your decision. You won't be able to go back to your old life, Zach. It's gone, forever."_

And then she is gone.

…

A/N: BWAH! Next time: the thrilling conclusion! And a note on the 'afterlife/God' bit… I'm not religious, and I don't claim to have any idea of anything relating to that kind of thing. What Zach says reflects the _character's_ view (the fact that it dovetails with mine is a coincidence). Please don't tell me I'm going to hell for that. K'thanks.


	7. Feelings, Revelations and Decisions

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Aright, this story ain't done yet, even though I was stupid and wrong and said it would be, and starting tomorrow, I'm housesitting, and I have no idea if I can connect to the internet there. FINGERS CROSSED I CAN, otherwise you'll be waiting like a WEEK for the last chapter. Which would be lame.

Chapter 6: Feelings, Revelations and Decisions, Oh My

…

_Room 382, Hospital, Washington D.C._

Zach leans against the wall, staring blankly at nothing.

What the girl – the Reaper – said is still reverberating through his skull. _'One hour. Sense of duty. Delude yourself.'_

Had he been deluding himself? Was his life pointless, valueless, empty?

"I'm having an existential crisis, while having an out-of-body experience," he muses out loud. "That feels like it should be ironic, or something."

As always, nobody answers him.

Dr. Saroyan is the only person in his room at the moment. She's still sitting next to him, still holding his hand. He wishes he was in his body, so he could feel it.

But, as is the norm for him, Zach shuts those thoughts away. Then he reconsiders.

"I'm probably going to die," he says to himself. "So why not?"

For once in his life, Zach does not push away his emotions. He doesn't bury them under logic and reason. He just _feels_.

And the feelings come in a tsunami-wave of emotion, practically drowning out his ability to think coherently.

_Dr. Brennan – mentor/friend/mother-figure – betrayed her – she still cares – why/how/what – need approval/affection/acceptance._

_Hodgins/Angela – friends/siblings/coworkers – abandoned by them – don't care/miss them/want friendship back – loneliness/outcast/forgotten by them/need for acceptance_

_Sweets/Booth – friends-ish/wary respect – don't/can't/want to/need to understand – work from the gut/heart/instinct – acceptance/friendship_

_Cam – mentor/friend/more-than-friend? – betrayed her – holding my hand – need forgiveness/acceptance/friendship/more?_

Precious minutes tick by as Zach sorts through everything he feels. His eyes widen, and then he closes them in pained realization.

"I can't."

…

Cam sighs, and forces her eyes open again. _'Have to stay awake.'_

She stares at Zach, who still hasn't moved since that one twitch the other day, which Cam is starting to think she imagined.

"Please wake up, Zach," she whispers softly. "Don't die, OK? Please don't?"

No response.

"I hope you can hear me. I think you can. I… I wish I'd told you this before, Zach," Cam stares intently at his slack face, hoping for any sign of life.

"I… I really care about you. I do. Maybe… as more than a friend? Maybe. I mean, I'm not sure, but… you know, if you woke up, maybe, if you wanted to, we could…."

There is no response. As she expects.

His face is still unmoving, blank. His hand is still limp in hers.

If the machines weren't beeping steadily, Cam would think that Zach is dead.

…

Exactly one hour after she last disappeared, the Reaper returns.

She stands beside Zach, who is staring at his friends. They had all gradually filtered back into the room after making whatever phonecalls or coffee-runs they'd gone to do before.

"_Have you decided?"_ she asks quietly.

Zach sighs, staring at Cam.

"You were right, you know," he says just as quietly. "I can't… go back. I can't have my old life back. I ruined everything, I know that."

The Reaper says nothing.

"I mean, if I could choose anything, I'd ask to go back to before everything that happened with the Master, and… do things differently, I suppose."

"_I can't do that."_

"I know. That was just the ideal situation," Zach says, still not looking at her. "Since I can't have that, I suppose there isn't much choice."

…

The five of them (Cam, Sweets, Hodgins, Angela, and Brennan) are all sitting silently in the tiny room when something changes.

Cam is the first to notice.

His hand twitches in hers. His fingers move.

She sits bolt upright, staring at him. "Zach?"

The others lurch to their feet, crowding around the bed, hearts in their throats.

For a few heart-achingly long moments, nothing happens.

Then Zach's eyelids flicker.

…

"_You wish to return to yourself, so that you can try to fix the mess you made,"_ the Reaper says, as though trying to understand a foreign language.

"Yes," Zach says definitively.

She stares at him for a moment, and then smiles oddly. _"You certainly are an unusual human."_

Zach smiles back weakly. "I hear that a lot."

"_You won't remember any of this, you know,"_ she cautions him. _"None of your… revelations, your conclusions. Not _consciously_, at least. Epiphanies like yours cannot be erased completely."_

"I just want to go back," Zach says, glancing over at Cam, who is staring intently at his comatose body. "Please?"

"_I suppose,"_ the Reaper smiles, and then reaches out to touch his forehead.

…

Zach coughs weakly, and his eyes open.

"Nurse!" Hodgins bellows, seeing Zach fumble at the tubes coming out of his throat. "Nurse, we need some help in here!"

Ten minutes later, Zach is fully awake, and breathing on his own. He stares at his friends somewhat fuzzily, as if he's having difficulty focusing.

"Are you sure you're feeling OK sweetie?" Angela asks from her seat on Zach's left.

"Yes," he says hoarsely. "Just tired. And my throat hurts."

"You gave us a hell of a scare, man," Hodgins says, leaning forward to mess up Zach's hair. "We thought you were gonna die."

Zach grins weakly, and says, "I have too much to do."

The others laugh, probably more than the joke actually warrants, but it's all stress relief.

Zach is going to be fine.

…

A/N: And what would a decent story be without some dénouement? If that's what it's called. The last wrap-up bits after the 'final confrontation'. I don't know, I learned that shit like eight years ago. And yes, the bit with the emotions/feelings was odd, but it was meant to be. He doesn't feel that much, that often, so it should've been overwhelming and confusing. That's what I was goin' for, anyway. Hopefully I got it. _Anyway_, my point is, next is last, and it's the final wrap up bit, including: another long-distance phonecall, a visit to the Reflecting Pool, and a few surprising announcements/confessions, all topped off with a big, soppy, fluffy bow. WOO!


	8. Pay No Attention To Behind The Curtain

Disclaimer: The plot/title was inspired by the Supernatural episode _'In My Time of Dying' _(s2, ep1). Most of the characters belong to Hart Hanson. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: There's an itty bitty homage to the TV show M*A*S*H, since it is my sole source of military knowledge (and since it's not really all that military, I should maybe get a new source). Catch it if you can! Also, many buckets of thanks to everybody who reviewed, read, favorite, alerted, or any combination thereof. I love you all! And, once again, if Zach is OOC, it's on purpose. He's first-season!Zach, when he had a personality. Now, without further ado, ON TO THE FINAL INSTALLMENT!

Chapter 7: Pay No Attention To The Beings Behind The Curtain

…

_Room 382, Hospital, Washington D.C., one week later_

"…so we've decided that a honeymoon in Paris is just so overdone, really," Angela grins at Zach. "We're gonna stick around here for a while."

"Can I tell him the best part?" Hodgins asks, face practically split in half from his own grin.

"Well, since you pulled it off, I suppose that would be alright," Angela sighs with mock-suffering.

"What? Tell me what?" Zach asks eagerly, voice still a little hoarse from having the tube shoved down his throat for two days.

"I used the until-now useless and irritating powers and contacts that go with being _me_ to pull some strings," Hodgins says smugly. "Long and complicated story put in short and simple speak–"

"You can come home," Angela cuts him off, laughing at Hodgins' mock-irritated face.

Zach's eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Yep. And I just bet Cam will trip over herself to offer you your old job back," Hodgins waggles his eyebrows ridiculously.

"But… how?" Zach asks, lips stretching in an unaccustomed-smile.

"Don't ask. Essentially, we had to promise them our firstborn," Hodgins says, and then, at Zach's worried look, he says, "kidding, man."

"Oh," Zach says, and then laughs a little. "So… I can really go back to living over the garage?"

"No," Hodgins says seriously. Zach's face falls, and then Hodgins continues, "That apartment's too drafty anyway. We've got you your own setup in the main house."

Angela smacks Hodgins on the arm for being 'such a goof', and Zach laughs. A full laugh, for the first time in years.

"Alright, we actually have to go now, though," Hodgins says reluctantly, hauling himself to his feet. "There's a thing, with stuff."

Zach cocks an eyebrow, and says, "You're being excessively vague."

"You bet," Hodgins grins cheerfully, and then he and Angela leave.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Saroyan knocks on the door. "Hey, now a good time?"

"Yes," Zach hauls himself farther up on his pillows.

"So, Hodgins and Angela dropped their bombshell, right?" she asks as she sits down.

"Yes, they did. It was… unexpected," Zach smiles a little bit.

Cam rolls her eyes. "Why? You know we all love you and want you to come back."

There's a moment of silence as they both flush a little bit, and then Cam coughs awkwardly and continues, "So, given any thought to gainful employment?"

"Hodgins suggested that… he said you might…."

Cam laughs, and shakes her head. "Pain in the ass ruined my surprise, huh?"

"Yes, I suppose. But, I could act surprised, if you want," Zach offers.

"Alright," Cam grins. "Zach, would you like to work at the Jeffersonian again?"

"Really?" Zach widens his eyes dramatically. "I would love to!"

Cam laughs again, and says, "You've gotten better at that kind of thing, I see."

"I didn't have much else to do in the Loony Bin," Zach says, looking down at his still-gloved hands. Then he frowns, and holds his hands up. "But, how can I–"

"We need you for your mind, Dr. Addy," Cam says reassuringly. "We'll figure a way around the hands."

Zach grins again, and they fall companionably silent for a few minutes.

"Um, so," Cam says, suddenly awkward again, not meeting his eyes. "Uh, when you're, you know, let out of the hospital, do you… maybe want to… uh…."

Zach looks up, eyes wide in genuine surprise and confusion. "Want to…?"

"Eat some food? Somewhere… maybe with… someone… who would be me?" Cam stumbles ineptly.

He stares at her for a brief moment, and then says, "Yes. I would."

Cam meets his eyes again, clearly surprised. "Really?"

"Yes," Zach says, and moves his hand across the bed until it's right next to hers.

She glances down, smiles a bit, and then slides her hand into his.

…

_Reflecting Pool, Washington D.C., same time_

Brennan stares at her phone, and then sighs, rolling her eyes at her own silliness.

'_Well, why not?'_ she asks herself, and proceeds to call the base in Iraq.

An interminable number of transfers and connections later, someone named Corporal O'Reilly answers the phone in Iraq.

"May I please speak to Seeley Booth?" Brennan asks.

"He's not here," the man says, sounding surprised. "He requested a transfer back to the States."

"What? When?" Brennan sits upright, stunned.

"A – About five days ago. He said that… somebody needed him, I'm not sure–"

"Thank you," Brennan says, and hangs up on the surprised Corporal.

She jumps to her feet, and turns around to head back to the Jeffersonian and make some irritated-bordering-on-panicky phonecalls, but stops dead.

Standing a few feet away, grinning cheekily at her, is Seeley Booth.

"Booth?"

"Hey, Bones," he says. "You alright?"

For once, words escape the brilliant forensic anthropologist. For once, she lets emotion take precedence over logic and reason.

She crosses the distance between the two of them in a heartbeat, and throws herself into Booth's arms.

And she is kissing him, and he is kissing her back, and nothing has ever felt more right.

…

_Hospital, Washington D.C. (sort of)_

Unseen by living eyes, a little girl lingers near Room 382, keeping an eye on one of the few humans to ever turn her down.

"_Good for you,"_ she whispers to herself as the young man and the woman who'd been with him all through his coma finally take that all-important step.

Contrary to popular belief, it's not often that the dying fight to live. Usually, they're worn out, beat down, and don't want to continue to fight. They welcome death.

But this unusual young man had run towards the challenge of putting his life back together. That kind of spirit (if you'll pardon the pun) is rare.

So, naturally, the Reaper had dropped a few words in some sympathetic, otherworldly ears (not Reaper-ears, but otherworldly nonetheless), and the combined efforts of Dr. Jack Hodgins and a few unnatural spirit-beings had persuaded various high-placed, powerful members of the local law system to declare Dr. Zachary Addy free, cleared of all charges. The legal mumbo-jumbo was beyond the average Reaper, but the point is, Zach is free.

The Reaper smiles broadly at the young man, and then vanishes.

…

A/N: Why yes, I _did_ reference magicky/supernatural stuff (and since I got the idea for the spirit-beings from the Dresden Files, I disclaim that too)! It's just more fun that way. And, since Zach doesn't remember it, it's totally canon! Really. I swear. Mostly it was because I have _no idea_ how they would legitimately/legally/non-magically get Zach out of the Loony Bin, and I couldn't just leave him in there! Poor thing doesn't deserve that. So, therefore, MAGIC! FREE ZACH! Anyway, thanks for reading/reviewing/whatever-ing! Love you all bunches!


End file.
